


No Butterflies

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Summary: Unable to communicate with an alien race, Daniel feelsresponsible for the team’s capture.  Captivity (again?) with a twist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

No Butterflies

##  No Butterflies

##### Written by Travelling One   
Comments? Write to us at [travelling_one@yahoo.ca](mailto:travelling_one@yahoo.ca)

  * SPOILERS: None 
  * SUMMARY: Unable to communicate with an alien race, Daniel feels responsible for the team’s capture. Captivity (again?) with a twist. 
  * PG 



* * *

They hadn’t done anything wrong.

They hadn’t done anything at all, other than appear on the exiting side of the wormhole.

So why they were sitting imprisoned within a circular barred cage, was anybody’s guess. Four pie-slice shaped cages, actually, fitting together to make a whole, with a two-foot diameter of an empty space down the center, beyond the bars, between them, separating them.  A double-barred cage it was, for around their circular prison ran a second set of bars, forming a maximum security loop.  They could not reach far beyond the first enclosure; the second surrounded the whole leaving a three-foot gap. And within this space, between the outer and inner rings of each slice of the pie, had been placed food, reachable through that first barricade if scooped with the dipper.  A vessel of grains, and a tub of water, each. Two weeks’ worth, they estimated, if they filled their cups only twice a day. They’d be out long before that, though…

“Do you have any idea what this is about, Daniel?” But he already knew Daniel hadn’t recognized the language.

“No.”

No?  Just No? Since when did Daniel give one-word answers?  Hell, he was needing some dialogue here, some theories, speculation, clues, any thing. Not ‘no’.

“Daniel,” Sam softly pursued, “Is there anywhere you’ve seen something like this before? Something this reminds you of?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“I, too, have never encountered this race before, nor this exact type of imprisonment,” Teal’c commented.

They could see activity beyond the double bars, men pulling strange loads, heading towards them, the rolling hills and circular dwellings petering out in the distance. Upon reaching the cage, several of the locals pulled forth lengths of black fabric, unfolding and stretching them taut. There was something about their demeanor that Jack found unnerving, something strange… these people did not seem angry, nor afraid. They seemed – almost eager, excited, as though they were helping each other construct a new house, celebrating, as they pulled the dark cloth around the outer perimeter of the prison. 

“What are they doing?”  Daniel was on his feet, back against the center point of his cell.

“Can’t you understand any of what they’re saying?”  Jack had too much faith in Daniel’s linguistic skills, and when Daniel couldn’t understand someone – well, that just couldn’t last long, could it? He didn’t mean to sound impatient.

“No, Jack. There’s nothing familiar in their words at all. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it, Daniel. It’s okay. I don’t understand them either.”

“It’s not your job, Jack. It’s mine.”

Jack heard the self-recriminatory condemnation in those words. He’d have to remember to talk to Daniel about that, later.

The entire cage was now being … wrapped, ‘round and ‘round with the dark cloth. As bits of it were pulled tight, other men were covering it with a thick, muddy paste of some sort…already drying and hardening.  

“Colonel…we’re being sealed in!”

Ah, crap. “Ya think?” The words were automatic, but the voice was burdened with worry. Shouting now, so as to catch the attention of those bizarre little men, “ **What the hell are you doing this for?”** The workers looked up, seemingly puzzled, then continued with what they were doing.  The teammates tried kicking the inner bars, shouting, banging. The short ones contentedly continued with their task.

“Well that went well.”  Jack sank down into the middle of his small space.  His pie-shaped wedge was narrow enough at its tip to reach his hands through to his neighbouring teammates’ confines.  It was long enough for him to stretch out twice, and wide enough to sleep three tall men head to head across the bottom end.  A perimeter nearly worth pacing around.  The cage came quipped with a cup, a ladle-like object, and a short barrel lined with a few inches of water. Jack lifted the lid and peered in.

“Extra water? There’s not much,” he commented.

“Sir…I think that’s for…other things.  They expect us to be here for a while. Although these places never seem to accommodate women,” Sam added ruefully.

“Oh, right.” He sat down again, and watched the interior of their new environment becoming increasingly dark. “They also forgot the toothbrushes.” And mattress, and blankets…a pillow would be nice, nearly like home…. More men had climbed some sort of tiny scaffolding or bamboo-like ladder, and were now wrapping and sealing the top of the rounded ceiling bars, rising well above their heads. This really did look like an enormous gilded cage. All that was missing was the perch. But the songbirds wouldn’t be singing inside this one.

Within a few hours, the fractioned enclosure had been completely blanketed in darkness. The center space had been closed as well, with a long pipe or tube of some sort embedded in the top.  While air could still penetrate, the daylight had been sealed off.  The blackness was complete.

“Can anyone see anything?”  

“I cannot, O’Neill.”

“No, sir.”

Silence.

“Well, they left us food.  They obviously don’t intend for us to die?” Daniel was searching for some hope, some meaning to this bizarre situation.  “So you think they’ll let us out in two weeks?”

“We don’t know how long **they** think the food will last, Daniel,” Sam theorized. “We think it’s enough for two weeks.  Maybe they think it’s what we need for two days?”

“Or maybe, Carter, they think it’ll last a month?”

“I agree, O’Neill. The humans on this planet are much smaller than we are. They would likely assume the food will last longer than our estimation.”

“Being larger, maybe they expect us to eat three times a day, though,” Sam suggested hopefully. “Or four?”

“Or,” Daniel speculated, “I don’t want to be the pessimistic one here, but being smaller, they might eat only once a day, and expect us to do the same.”

“Well, we’ll still go with one cup of that stuff twice a day, that’s already stretching it. As for anything else… I guess we just wait and see.  Anyone have any other ideas?”

“I do not, O’Neill.”

“Can’t budge the door, Jack.  It’s locked.”

“They laid our weapons down in a neat pile out there, Sir. Why do you think they did that?”

“Well, Carter, I imagine that after this nice holiday they’re intending to let us shoot them.”

The silence lasted for a long time, an eternity, at least twenty minutes.

“Anyone for a game of Scrabble?”  There was no response. “Strip poker?”

In the darkness, all that could be heard now that the locals had gone, were the sounds of hushed breathing, and one very brief and quiet chuckle. And then, one final comment:  “I’ll do anything, Jack, for a cup of coffee.”

_____

They were in a mild state of shock, having been captured so suddenly and without apparent cause. Locked up now for fourteen hours, the boredom was penetrating and overwhelming. Jack’s pacing and exercising was imitated by Carter and Daniel, while Teal’c had remained for several hours in a state of kelno’reem. They had eaten once, tried to sleep, then resumed their nervous actions.  Nothing seemed to keep the tension nor the fear from intensifying.

Daniel sat down and leaned against the bars.  It was like being in a void, surrounded by blackness, the only sounds those of each other’s footsteps. Why was this happening? What had they done?

He couldn’t help feeling he’d let everyone down.  Some phrase, a verb tense; he should have recognized **some** thing. Even the body language; why hadn’t he been able to communicate with that?

Lying down uncomfortably on his stomach on the cold metal floor, he rested his head on his arms. Maybe if he fell asleep, he could dream himself away from here.

_____

“Once upon a time, there was a magical land with blue fruit hanging abundantly from the trees…”

“Carter, if you’re going to tell a story, don’t make it sound like the planets we gate to.”

“Okay, Colonel, then you start.”

“Once upon a time, there was an evil robot who called himself a god and everyone obeyed his commands…”

“Goa’uld, Sir? Kind of our reality, no?”

“Fine. Once upon a time, there was a CO in the Air Force, and everyone obeyed **his** commands.”

“Colonel!”

“Hey, Carter, no reality in that.”

“Once upon a time,” Daniel began, “there were four crows, and they all nested in the different directions of the universe, north, south, east, and west.  They came together accidentally one morning, meeting at a signpost by a crossroads…”

“Each displaying strong differences of character. One was very wise, one strong. One was gentle, the other fierce.”

“I didn’t know you could tell stories, Teal’c.”

“I am not. I am telling the truth.”

It had been a long boring day, again, the hours stretching out and out, no hours meaning anything any more, for they had been encased here in blackness for three days and were losing sense of time already. Only their luminescent wristwatches revealed the secret of whether it was day or night.  

The story had continued, long into the night, until Daniel had fallen asleep and Jack had turned the characters into snakeheads.

“I give up, Sir. Let’s call it a day.”

“But I haven’t rescued them yet, Carter.”

“Tomorrow, Sir.”

“Sam?”

“Yes, Colonel?”

“You okay?”

“Cold and hungry and tired, Sir.  Bored and aching and scared.  Perfect, I guess, just like the rest of you.”

“Right. ‘Night, Carter.”

“Good night, Colonel.”

____

Some of the restless activity petered out as the days went by and the teammates grew more accustomed to the confinement and the darkness. Now, as word games and conversation took precedence, the teammates focussed on keeping each other company with their verbal presence.  They clung to the companionship offered in sound.

Daniel just listened at times, not taking part. He revelled in the magic of his friends’ voices; with eyes closed to the blackness, lying on the cold metal floor, he let the verbal cadence penetrate the cells of his body, filling him with wamth and comfort. He loved to just listen to their games, and Jack’s occasional bad jokes.  His body consumed the sounds, needing them far more than the tiny helping of grains he allowed himself each night, more than the spoonful of water twice a day. The voices were his strength.

_____

While the others slept or pretended to, Jack’s anger overwhelmed him. He’d allowed this to happen to his team, and they didn’t even have a semblance of a reason.  They’d been far outnumbered, small as those devils were. He’d get out of here, if only to kick the crap out of even one of those aliens. Someone would be sorry they’d done this.  

And then, the anger would find itself alternating with inescapable sorrow, an all-consuming sadness and despair.  Aggravated by the sensory deprivation, the lack of stimulating food, his sense of helplessness would come crashing down, spurred by thoughts of Sam, and Teal’c, and Daniel locked up in the darkness in their own cells, in their own hells, beside him. **WHY?** And then the anger and rage would come roaring back. He’d avenge his teammates. They meant everything to him.

_____

Why are we here? Are they testing us, keeping us for something? Somehow, this doesn’t seem like it’s a simple punishment, we did nothing but come through the Stargate. Not just an imprisonment because they feared us, either. 

Daniel’s mind was growing accustomed to the lack of stimulation, and he spent more and more time secluded within his own daydreams.  Food, sunshine, Egypt.  His eyes were forgetting light, and no longer noticed the blackness. His body was growing used to the lack of space, but not yet to the hunger.

Daniel heard someone stir, and rise. Someone was pacing, the steps were coming from Jack’s cell, to the left.  Sam was asleep on the right.  Teal’c was in the cage directly behind him, and had been passing much of his time in kelno’reem, communing with his symbiote.  “Jack?” a soft whisper, he wondered if Jack had heard.

“Daniel?” Jack pressed closer to the bars on Daniel’s side, his voice nearly inaudible. When one of them was asleep, the others knew it was the best thing to leave them that way.  Sleep passed the time.

“Jack, something just occurred to me.  I don’t think they’re planning to let us go.” Daniel moved over to the bars, sitting, his right shoulder next to Jack’s.

“Why not? What about the two weeks’ worth of food?”

“I think when it’s finished, they’re just going to give us more.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Nothing else makes sense, Jack.”

“Why seal us in, if they plan to open up and close it again?”

“Why seal us in, if they plan to let us out? Maybe they’re just going to let the food run out. Or,” Daniel had a terrifying thought, “maybe it’s not for us to eat at all. Maybe it’s an offering to their deities.  Like the Buddhist statues receive on Earth.”

“Daniel, stop speculating.  Worrying will make it worse.”

“I can’t help it, Jack.  I keep comparing them to all the cultures I know, and I come up empty.  Not that we had much time to study them, they threw us in here pretty quickly. I just can’t help thinking I’m missing something.”

“Daniel, you can’t solve everything. This isn’t your fault.”

“Daniel?”

“Danny!”

“I suppose not, Jack.”

“I can’t see you, Daniel. Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Daniel passed his hand through the bars, and it was grasped by Jack. A tactile sense. A human body.  A reminder of friendship.

“Just to let you know I’m still here, Daniel. We’re all still here. I know you know that, and you feel responsible for it for some reason I can’t figure, but I also think you’ve been tuning us out and withdrawing into yourself lately. Don’t do that.”

Daniel left his hand in Jack’s, the first human contact he’d felt in six days. It was difficult, this blackness. The sense of sight didn’t work, the darkness disorienting.  The sense of smell was starting to pick up the contents of the barrels, but nothing else. The sense of hearing picked up only the sounds of breathing and footsteps, some other sounds for which they were glad it was dark, and sometimes conversation, when they were all awake at the same time.  The sense of taste had only the same grains each day.  As for the sense of touch, he had only the cold floor and his arms around his own body. This was a new sensation, and they both needed it.  One sense at a time. Daniel didn’t think he could handle more than that.

“I’m afraid, Jack. For all of us. I don’t want us to die here.”

“None of us do, Daniel.”

“I wish I knew why we’re here.”

Jack had no response to offer. 

“Jack, just… don’t be worried for me.”

“I am.  You’re my friend, Daniel. I care about you.”

For a while, the two silently held onto each other, through the shared bars, the only semblance of reality they could still cling to.

“Look…I hate to ask this, but…”

“Yeah, Jack?”

“How the hell did you learn to speak twenty-three languages? I mean, we’re not just talking ‘how much for the beer’ here, are we?”

Daniel stifled a chuckle. Jack gently squeezed his hand.

“Daniel?…Hungry? It’s dinner time.”

Daniel loosened his grip. “Yes, very.”

“Let’s get the others.”

Each morning and evening, trying to keep as regular a schedule to normalcy as they could, the whole team would eat together, trying their best to keep their bodies regulated. So they would wake each other up, eat slowly, and play word games or tell stories, and often, reminisce. Twice a day, the friends relied on each other to share feelings, give each other hope, maintain their sanity. Twice a day, they had something to look forward to.

Waking up was always the hardest part of the day.  When dreams subsided, whether good or bad, they gave way to the realization that the cold floor was underneath, and the cell was still home. The hunger was constant, although never as intense as it had been the first two days.  Their bodies were getting used to the lower intake of calories.

Daniel never mentioned he was eating only once, and barely half a cupful at that. Sometimes, he would join them for the morning meal as well, but would eat only one or two mouthfuls, then have even less at night.  He didn’t think they’d get more food at the end of two weeks.  And when their food ran out, he wanted to have some to share. It was the least he could do. He owed them.

_____

He lay against the bars, propping himself up, trying to conquer the dizziness that had overcome him again.  The blackness was overwhelming, conjuring up colours and images he knew weren’t really there. Or maybe it was the hunger, or the headache.  Sensory deprivation was doing its part, and only the voices would be able to ground him. The voices. His friends were awake.

“What’s going on?”

“Daniel. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s okay. I needed it.” He tried to stand, but had to hold on. Which way? Didn’t matter, where was he going to go?

“We were just thinking of the worlds we’ve gated to and what we’d change if we were kings.”

“Or queen, Sir.”

“Right. That’s what I meant.”

“Your idea, Jack?”

“Of course…Daniel? You okay? You don’t sound so good.”

“I’m okay. Just …confused, a bit.  Thought I was on P2R 554 when I woke up.”

“Must be the smell, Daniel.”

“Or something.”

“We have been on P6X 131 for ten days, Daniel Jackson.”

“Yes, Teal’c. I’m awake now.”

“Indeed.”

“God, I just wish I could see you guys.”

“Ten days of beard, Daniel. You’re probably better off not seeing.”

“Jack, right now I wouldn’t care if **Sam** had a beard. What time is it?”

“One hour and twenty minutes till dinner at La Cage.  Isn’t your watch working?”

Daniel wasn’t sure; his vision, whenever he looked at his watch, was blurred, even when he remembered to take his glasses out of his pocket. “Can’t see it very well, Jack. My sight doesn’t adjust fast enough.”

“Oh.” Had to be something more to it than that; it took Jack’s eyes a few moments as well, but then all was okay. Should he be worrying about Daniel?

“We’re well past the half way point, if our two-week assumption is right. Will you all be okay for four more days?” Jack figured he’d address the question to all of them.

“I shall, O’Neill.”

“I imagine so, Sir.”

“I will if you will.”

A deal, Danny? “Deal, Daniel. I’ll hold you to that.”

_____

The stories were petering out, no one had the motivation.  The word games continued halfheartedly; alphabet games, number games, finish the sentence using the letter “Y”… whatever they could think of, the after-dinner routine.  Morning routines of exercising were continuing for Teal’c. Jack and Sam still did some for twenty minutes or so.  Daniel for about five, he couldn’t seem to manage more all at once. Hunger, weakness, dizziness sometimes. And then there were the cramps. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea not to eat, after all.  A few extra days of food wouldn’t make much difference to any of them, really.  But what the hell, he’d rather be the first one to die anyway, he couldn’t bear to watch anyone else go first.

Or maybe they’d be released.  He still clung to that hope a little bit, doubtfully, but some hope was there. And he wanted to make sure they just weren’t living on four-foot rations. A few extra days just might be all they needed to survive this. Two more days, and they’d find out. He’d definitely be fine until then.

_____

“How’re we doing, kids?”  Jack had been running a bit low on both grains and water, so he’d found himself filling the cup up a bit less the past two or three days. No more water to waste putting it into the cereal, at any rate. He was scraping the bottom of the barrel. “I think I have enough for tonight and tomorrow.”  So, he was expecting to have a tomorrow night here, on Day Fourteen? The words took him by surprise, but he realized they’d been living inside him all along. They didn’t seem any closer to getting out of this place.

“I shall be finished mine tonight, O’Neill,”  Teal’c commented.

“I can give you some for tomorrow, Teal’c, I have a bit left over. I’ll pass it through with the scoop.”

“I shall not take your food, Daniel Jackson.”

“Teal’c, I’d rather we all have the same,” Daniel insisted.

“How about you, Carter?”

“Sir, it feels like I might be able to scrape some off the bottom for one more day.”

“Good. So…we all have one more day’s sustenance; let’s hope their alarm clocks go off on time,” Jack added skeptically. “And that their days aren’t actually longer than ours.”

Daniel felt his heart drag on the cold metal floor.  Tomorrow, they’d have to face reality.  

_____

Fourteen days. Two weeks.

While each team member knew exactly what day it was, no one said a word that morning. A day like any other, just dragging a little more slowly.  A few extra glances at his watch, but Daniel tried not to ask for the time too much more often than usual.  This might be the day he’d get to see again.

Nervous footsteps from Jack’s cell.  On and off throughout the course of the day.  Extra exercizing sounds coming from Teal’c’s.  Each sound was amplified; their ears had become accustomed to differentiating between each others’ moods, even between each others’ thoughts. Jack had joked once that if they stayed here much longer, they’d be able to communicate by telepathy only, which would save physical energy.

The end of the fourteenth day.  The end of two weeks. Although the passage of time meant nothing, Jack’s watch told them it was dinnertime.

Forty-five minutes later, having dragged out their paltry meal for as long as they could, savouring every tiny grain almost one at a time, three barrels of grain were empty. Daniel didn’t yet mention his was still over half full. He had even more water, having tried to greatly reduce his water intake over the previous few days.  While he knew people could survive for seven or eight weeks without food, they would not last more than one without water.

So, Daniel calculated, with all of them eating only once a day, he could supply them with food for about four extra days, water for six or seven.  What good that would do, he wasn’t entirely sure. No, he wasn’t sure at all; it might just prolong their suffering.  But he knew they had to cling to every last moment of life.

_____

Fifteen days. 

No one knew what to say.  There were no words of comfort to be found.

“We were wrong.”

“No Daniel, you were right.’

“Didn’t want to be right this time, Jack.”  

“May as well go out with your record intact, pal.”

Daniel didn’t respond.  There was no more desire, no more motivation.  He didn’t have the energy to move, didn’t want to think.  Talking seemed so irrelevant.  At dinner, he’d feed his friends. And then, he’d sleep.

_____

“Anyone have any dreams they’d consider sharing? I don’t mean ‘dream’ dreams, like night dreams, but as in secret wishes?” Another topic, to pass the time.

“Like what, Carter? ‘Cause besides going home, I’m wishing for a big steak right about now.”

“No, I don’t know, Sir. Just …anything. As a kid I wished for my own canoe, but my dad insisted the local river wasn’t a healthy place to paddle around in.”

“Aand…he was right…”

“So I promised myself that I’d grow up and live in the country, where I could take my kids to swim in the lakes any time they wanted to.”

“Changed your plans somewhere along the route, Major?”

She chuckled. “Traded the canoe for airplanes.” 

“I have wished to free my people from the false gods.”

“Ah.” Okay, should’ve seen that one coming.

Daniel had been lost in thoughts of long ago.“When I was little…living in the homes and orphanages, we kids knew better than to get too close to anybody, kind of like an unwritten rule. It was just too hard to make friends and have them pulled away from you again and again, never knowing where they were ending up.  I’d always pretend they’d gone to some great and wondrous place, and would one day send for me to come down and stay with them, forever. But I never heard from any of them again, and the rule always made more and more sense. I’d look out the window at night, at the stars, every single night, and I’d make one wish, always the same.  That one day, someone would love me enough to want to keep me forever.”

The brief silence was broken by Jack’s low voice. “Was there a time limit on that?” 

“I never thought of it in terms of time.”

Jack’s words barely beat Sam’s. “Consider your wish granted.”

Daniel closed his eyes, unnecessarily, for there was no difference in the darkness. But the voices, the words, made him feel deep inside that a long-lost piece of some deeply buried puzzle had firmly been snapped into place.

There had been no other games that day, and little conversation. There had barely been any movement, the four team members lost within their own thoughts, isolated and depressed.  Hope was gone, and nothing surfaced to replace it. But Daniel knew he had one more gift to offer.

“What time is it?”

“Half an hour past dinner time, Daniel.” For fifteen days, time had revolved around their grim meals. As far as Jack was concerned, there was no point in calculating it any more, but the habit was a hard one to break.

“Oh. Then what do you say we eat?”

“Stay with us, Daniel.  Reality check. No food. No water.”

Daniel slowly shuffled, half crept, to his inner bars. “I have some.”

“Huh? How?”

“Don’t know. Maybe they gave me more.”

“Same size barrels, Daniel. I saw them before they turned off the lights.”

“Well…I guess I just didn’t fill my cup as much as you guys.”

“Damnit, Daniel! No wonder you’ve been feeling so poorly.  We hardly ate anything as it was.”

“Here.” He slowly, carefully so as not to spill a grain, passed a ladleful through the bars to Sam, feeling his way around. “Hold out your cup.”

The voice close to her quarters told Sam that Daniel was beside her, and holding precious food. “I can’t, Daniel. You need that.”

“As much as you do.”

“Daniel…”

“Take it. I don’t have the energy to argue, and I still have to get some for Jack and Teal’c.”

Major Carter felt for the ladle Daniel was holding out to her in the blackness, and gratefully emptied it into her cup.  “Thank you, Daniel.”

Daniel brought some to the others.  

“How much do you have left, Daniel?”  

“Don’t know.”

“Daniel??”

“Jack?”

“You do know. Now tell.”

“Maybe enough for four days, for all of us.”

“What? Are you nuts?  What the hell have you been eating?”

“Enough, Jack. I’m still as alive as you are.”

“Barely. You must be dehydrated already.”

“Jack… I don’t want to be more alive than you, okay? And I don’t want to be around when any of you go, either.”

“Daniel, we don’t want to see… I mean, hear…you …leave us….either, you know. What gives you the right to make a decision like that?” Jack’s disembodied voice sounded upset with him.

“I’m the one with the food. Now be quiet, I don’t have the strength or patience to argue.”

Jack paused, considering what the archaeologist had done for his teamates. He couldn’t be angry at the guy. Not in here, anyway. “Daniel… thank you.” But the worry definitely was coming in stronger waves right about now.  Facing their possible demise had not been something he’d actually let himself think about, he preferred to keep up hope until no other choice remained. Yet now, the realization that he might actually witness the deaths of his friends and teammates, helplessly, was beginning to dawn. And the first to go, he knew now, would be Daniel.

Half an hour later, the four had settled down once again, this time to sleep and see what tomorrow held in store.  More of the same, only a day closer to death.

Daniel felt a hand reach through the bars from Sam’s side, as he lay at the head of the triangular cell.  He felt her arm run the length of his, gently pulling his hand between the bars.  He felt the warmth of her cheek on the back of his hand, and then a soft gentle kiss.  “Thank you,” he heard her whisper, before sliding off into dreams that would sometimes take him to happier places, and sometimes take him nowhere.

Sam felt Daniel’s hand go limp, and she rested it gently in her own. She’d give her life for her teammates, three special people who came with the job.  Her initial worry at being accepted as a woman on an SG team had soon been allayed as she discovered the souls of the three men she was working so closely with. She’d earned her place on the team, and they, a place in her heart.  What Daniel had just done for them, she only wished she’d thought of first. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered inaudibly into Daniel’s cell, hoping his sleeptimes were better these days than her own.

_____

And the single ladles of food did last for four more days, the team eating together each evening, stretching out the social occasion and pretending the steaks and corn on the cob were still to come, along with the coffee.  And on the nineteenth day they ate even more slowly than usual, though the conversation was hushed and clipped short, for the food had run out. Daniel’s food had run out. There were still a few days of water to look forward to, that was something.  Daniel, however, had been slipping away into a deep depression, his withdrawal from the group more and more evident.  While the others had made continuous efforts to draw him back to them, they knew he had been without real food for much longer than they, nearly the full three weeks now, and his dehydration was a serious concern. Yet Daniel maintained he was fine, and without their vision, they couldn’t argue. 

_____

“Daniel. **Daniel**. Come on, wake up.”

“I don’t think he can hear you, Sir.”

“Then I’ll keep trying, Carter. I can’t feel him anywhere, he must’ve moved down. He’s not leaving us like this, I swear.’

“Maybe it’s kindest to let him.”

“No! He’s alone in there. We’re all in this together, Daniel included.”

The voices. All that could pull him towards reality, if reality was the place he wanted to be.  Leave me alone. What did they want? Where was he? God he was thirsty. His head was pounding.

“Jack?” his whisper. He felt something.  A hand touching his right shoulder.  Sam’s. He rolled over, hitting something. Bars. He was still in the cell.  Why was he so cold?

“Daniel? That you buddy?  Can you sit up? Reach through to me here. I’ll be able to reach Teal’c if you do.”

“What? Why?” Daniel was trying to focus on the words. 

“Because we’ve been here twenty-three days, Daniel.  Because last night your water ran out.  And we thank you again for sharing, by the way.  And because we want you to be with us right now.”

Oh. It sounded to Daniel like Jack was worried.  Do what he asked, do it.

Daniel sat up feebly, reaching out, lightheadedness overwhelming him, and the hands caught him. Hands that slid down to clutch his, the grasp becoming tighter, more firm. Jack’s, and Sam’s.

“Teal’c?” Jack inquired. “Can you reach me now? Give me your hand.”

Touching. Hands. Warmth. Caring.  Good things. God, Daniel hated that these friends were imprisoned here.  God he was glad that he wasn’t alone.

“It has been my pleasure to have been part of your team and your world, O’Neill. Major Carter, Daniel Jackson, I have known no warriors with stronger hearts nor greater loyalty than your own.”

“Teal’c, we’re not checking out yet…!”

“O’Neill.”

“What?”

“We are not being released from here.  We have no nourishment nor liquids. Daniel Jackson has not seemed well for days. I do not wish to wait to say these things.”

Damn.

“It’s okay, Teal’c, I’m fine.”  He may be weak, but Daniel could find the strength for this.  “You don’t have to. We know.”

“No, Daniel. Sir…? I want to say something too. Don’t stop me, okay?…” Maybe this was easier, in the dark. “When I joined the Stargate program, I had high expectations. The highest I could ever imagine. And they’ve been fulfilled to a greater degree than I’d even thought possible, thanks to all of  you. I found not only the career challenges I’d always wished for, but a team that’s been more than I could ever have hoped for. Three of the best friends I’ve ever had. Thank you Colonel, Daniel.  Teal’c.”

“My turn.” Daniel had to get this out, as well. His voice was quiet, devoid of energy. “I love you, all of you. I tried not to, at first, I didn’t want to get close. But I couldn’t help it.” In a few minutes, he’d gather the strength to say more.

“Well…shit. You know how I feel about all of you. If you don’t you should.” Jack O’Neill, at his best.  “One more thing, Sam, a favour? Call it a last request, if you will.”

“If I can, Sir. Anything.”

“From now on, call me Jack.”

And so the four friends sat, leaning heavily against the central circle, reaching out and grasping each other, the only source of human contact they had had in over three weeks, the only warmth in a prison of near sensory deprivation. For now, even the sense of taste had been cut off.  But it wouldn’t matter, they might not have too much longer to mourn their loss.

There was no reason to move.  No reason now to exercise, to pace.  The only thing worth doing was sitting there, grasping hands, waiting. Waiting.  For the door to open, to the outside world or to another.  A door in front, or a door above, but all that was worthwhile was within their grasp, and they were holding on.  And each of the friends reminisced, silently, of what had brought them together, of why they were together now.  Of past missions, good and bad, all which they had pulled through, mostly together and always intact.  Until the end, they would have each other.  No more words were needed.

_____

They had been without water for almost four days, without food for nearly seven. 

And on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth day, nearly four full weeks since they had been sealed in dark, tiny, cold cells, the door opened, and the light shone in.

First there was banging.  Then as a hole appeared, there were arms and tools pulling apart the hardened fabric casing that had held the light and sound out for so long.  Surprised and shocked faces peered into the semi-darkness, seen by no one.

Jack was the first to hear the noise, the first to groggily arouse.  Opening his eyes, he quickly shut them again from the dim light, the light that was pouring in through a small opening. From his pocket he withdrew the sunglasses that had been imprisoned with him. There was air, warm and fresh.  Jack hadn’t until that moment realized how stale and thick the air around them had actually become. As his eyes gradually adjusted and the wrapping was pulled entirely off the cage, the cell doors were flung open, and the four-foot men and shorter women stood there, staring in, gaping.  As three made their way into Jack’s cell, he flung out his arms, threatening them away. “Stay back!” he shouted hoarsely, though the sound that came out was definitely less fierce than he’d intended.  Damn, his throat was dry, was that bubblewrap keeping his tongue in place? He couldn’t swallow. The men retreated hesitantly, leaving a small jug of water, and stood staring from the foot of the cells.

Jack glanced around, searching for his teammates.  Teal’c was rising.  Sam was stirring, beginning to sit up.  Daniel was not.

Jack grasped the bars, pulling himself into a semi-standing position.  Painfully, he made his way out of his prison and met Teal’c coming around from his own.  “Go to Carter,” he grunted, as he entered Daniel’s cell, the water flask in his hand. He took some painful gulps, then laid it by Daniel’s side.

“Daniel.” Jack knelt down. Daniel was lying on his stomach, arms through the bars where he had lain grasping the hands of his teammates.  Jack’s fingers were on his neck.  He was warm but clammy, had a pulse.  “Daniel. Can you hear me?” Laying his arms by his side, he gently turned his friend over, head onto his lap. Daniel looked terrible, the skin around his eyes discoloured, the growth of beard making him look old. He’d lost some weight, too. Jack ran his hand over Daniel’s cheek.  “C’mon, Daniel.”  

Teal’c and Sam were nearby then, water flasks in hand, kneeling at the foot of the cell. “How is he, Sir?”

“Alive….come on, Daniel.  Wake up. “

The aliens were bringing food, then, and more water.  Gingerly, they stepped into the cell, behind Teal’c, and set down a basket of what looked like bread, along with more of the grains.

“Why are they feeding us now?”  Jack was irritable, and confused.

“Maybe we passed some sort of test, Sir.” Sam’s voice sounded raw, masculine. Sore.

“Jack .”  Jack gave her a…look.

“We’re not locked in any more, Sir… deal’s over.”

“Yeah….Fine, okay. But we still have to get Daniel home, asap.  Carter, try to get them to understand we want our bags and weapons, I don’t see them anywhere.  We need the GDO, at least.” His voice sounded harsh to his ears, could she understand him?  He took more water.

“Yes, Sir.”

As Sam left the cage to attempt  miming her desires to the crowd that conspicuously stood watching, Jack continued trying to revive Daniel. At last, there was a movement.

“Daniel? Danny? Come on. You can do it.  The doors are open, there’s food here, too.”

“Jack?” The voice was weak and quiet, sorrowful, but his eyes were trying to open, blinking shut in the light. Jack placed his hands above Daniel’s eyes, filtering the glare of sunshine, fishing in Daniel’s pocket for his prescription sunglasses.

“That’s it, buddy. Teal’c, let’s try to get him to take some water.”

As Daniel swallowed a few small gulps of the liquid, he realized he was looking outside of the cell. The blindness was missing, replaced by a pounding headache of brightness, and the chamber was open. “What happened, Jack?”

“I have no idea. Carter’s trying to get our stuff back, though.”

“ **Was** trying, Sir,”  Sam said, re-entering. “They don’t understand.” Seeing Daniel awake, she smiled and touched his cheek.  “We’re getting out of here, Daniel. You’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” Daniel was sitting up, leaning heavily on Jack, still squinting against the light, even with the sunglasses on. He had no strength. Jack’s hands on his arms may have aided in propping him up, but mostly their purpose was to convince Jack that he was indeed once again in the physical presence of the friends whose disembodied voices had kept him sane for a nearly a month. He held on, while Daniel drank a bit more water and tried weakly to swallow some bread soaked in the liquid. Although solid food was of questionable benefit, at this point it was all they had.

“Jack… I think I can move.  I’d really like to get out of here.”

“Sure. Teal’c? Give us a hand?”

“With pleasure, O’Neill.”

As they gently and slowly moved Daniel out into the fresh air and sunshine and settled him against the cage bars, they were hesitantly approached by two of the locals carrying something.  The other onlookers were still standing, nearly motionless, gaping.

“I believe they thought us to be dead, O’Neill.”

“So, what, they were letting us out to bury us?”

“Perhaps.”

Sitting down by Daniel’s side, one of the men began to draw with a dye stick of some sort on a large scrap of fabric, as the archaeologist looked on, vision still somewhat blurred, even with his glasses.  

“What is it, Daniel?” Sam crouched nearby.

“Sam…he’s drawn some small people, and four tall ones – I think it’s them and us.”

He continued to watch, as did the crowd of gathering locals.

“Great, Danny. So there’s a caricaturist at the fair. Got any idea how to get our things back so we can get the hell out of here?”  Jack studied his friend closely, knowing Daniel most probably needed an IV for dehydration.  He was feeling pretty awful himself, and Carter looked like hell after these four weeks. Even Teal’c was looking fatigued and pale, leaning as he was against a painted boulder.

“I think this might be it, Jack.  Wait.” Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, just for a moment. He wanted so badly to watch, but this was tiring for him.  The food and water had definitely helped give him some strength, though. Maybe he could even take more in a little while.

“Can’t do much else,” Jack muttered.

More short men were being drawn on a second section of fabric, along with tall men, and a large donut. The Stargate.  “Jack…if this is us coming out of the Stargate, I think they’re trying to tell us why they’ve done this to us.”

“Terrific. They couldn’t have thought of this four weeks ago?”

But the representations of the tall people were then covered in a disguise of some sort, making them appear huge, and their eyes were painted in white. Strange-looking buildings were drawn around the background. And then, below the whole, wiggling around the tall men… were snakes.

“Jack…? These tall ones…I think they’re telling us the Goa’uld were once here. Probably a long time ago. This building style doesn’t seem like it’s in use today.”

“So they thought we were Goa’uld? I don’t get it.  Why’d they let us out?”

“Wait…there’s more. Teal’c, could I get some more water, please?” He hated using Teal’c as an errand boy, he knew the Jaffa was not much better off than he was.  But the locals wouldn’t understand what he wanted.

“Certainly, Daniel Jackson.”

Those bars didn’t look comfortable to lean on, and Daniel didn’t look well. He was trying so hard to concentrate. Jack eased his friend off the hard bumpy cell wall and leaned him against his own shoulder. He placed his arm around Daniel, in order to prop him up more comfortably and securely.

“Thanks, Jack,” came the muttered response.  “I’ll be okay soon.”

“Take your time, Danny.” Won’t be okay ‘til you’re back home.

Another drawing had been placed in Daniel’s lap, now.  A worm.  A chrysalis. A butterfly.

Suddenly Daniel drew in a breath.  “Oh my god!” the realization hit him, and he didn’t know what to think.

“What, Daniel?” Three worried pairs of eyes pampering their friend.

“Oh my god. They…” Daniel looked up at his teammates crouching beside him, holding their gaze for the first time, keeping his eyes wide without squinting.  Apparently, he still had some adrenalin left to work off of. “…They don’t think of the Goa’uld as enemies…their knowledge must be in the form of ancient legends.” He paused for breath. “The Jaffa armor, their huge helmets, and their symbiotes …they know them as tall men who transformed into other creatures. Snake, within a tall human, becoming Goa’uld or Jaffa. The only reference they have to such a transformation in their own lives is the natural life cycle of a butterfly, beginning with the worm, or caterpillar…a two-week metamorphosis…God, I think they were hoping to see us change into Goa’uld!”

Sam’s eyes grew wider than Daniel’s.  “And this cage was a **cocoon?** ”

“Apparently **.** … A week or two to gorge on all the food we needed, then approximately two weeks to transform, in stasis, give or take a few days. Just about right, I’d say.”

“So all this,” Jack reasoned digustedly, “Was just a giant **misunderstanding**?”

“Apparently,” Daniel repeated, eyes closing, leaning into Jack.

“Aww…hell.” His team had been put through this, for what?  Crap, he couldn’t even summon up any real anger for these people now…they hadn’t known. They’d just been wanting to see a miracle happen right before their eyes.  Well, the only miracle was that they were all still alive. “I guess they realize now we’re not Goa’uld. Danny, can you stay with us long enough to ask for our gear?”

Daniel forced his eyelids apart, blinking again in the unexpected sunlight. He did have an idea. Taking the dye stick, he tried to draw a representation of their packs on the fabric. That had better be enough, because he was out of energy.

“Here…let me help, Daniel.  Hopefully I can make this look better than my stick people,”  Sam gently removed the implement from Daniel’s shaky fingers, added some touches of her own, then mimicked slinging a pack over her arm.

The small men spoke softly to one another.  Minutes later, the packs appeared, along with SG-1’s weapons and other belongings, carried by six of the locals.  

“Finally!” Jack let himself feel true relief for the first time that day, for the first time in almost four weeks. His attention was diverted to an area of noise, banging and commotion.  About 400 metres off into the distance, another circular hut was being ripped apart. Watching for a few more minutes, the team saw four men emerge – and recognized their clothing as US military.

“Colonel O’Neill!” a voice shouted as it drew closer.  “What the hell was this about?…are you all okay?”

“Greetings, Colonel Duncan.”

“Teal’c.”

“Well, well, well…hi guys.  They get you too?” O’Neill noticed SG-4 didn’t look half as drained and used as his own team.

“We came when you didn’t show up at the end of your scheduled five days. No one here seemed to understand us, they just stared and talked amongst themselves. We wandered around looking for you for about three days. We returned to the SGC, then came back to try again, but the second time they threw us in that disgusting cage. So what happened? Our food was nearly gone. Hey, is that bread?”

“Go ahead, knock yourselves out. We’re leaving, but you boys just go ahead and dine.” Jack was trying to lift his pack, in his seated position behind Daniel.  God, it felt heavy.  Maybe he could leave the unessentials … or get SG-4 to help carry the stuff. After all, they had Daniel to support.

“Why would they have these cells here, Teal’c? Do you think the Goa’uld left them?”  Sam was curious.

“It is likely,” the Jaffa responded. “If they are constructed of naquadah, they would not have deteriorated.”

“I think they live in them,” Colonel Duncan commented.  “See all those circular homes? They’re nearly the same as these cells inside, but the bars have been plastered over. Just, no cell divisions in the interior, and they have windows.”

“See, I knew all we needed was some paint and curtains,” O’Neill commented, easing his grip on Daniel.  His friend was trying to sit up on his own. 

“Jack…since they know we’re really human, now…maybe one day we can come back and actually study these people…?”

Jack sighed. Good old Daniel. At least his spirit’s still intact. “Daniel…first things first. Let’s get home. Let’s get well. Not to mention showered and changed might be nice. Then we’ll talk about it.”

“Uh…looks like you guys may need some help here,” Duncan suggested, eyeing Daniel. “Can he walk?”

“He can walk,” Daniel answered for himself.  He tried to stand.  “With a bit of help.”

Slowly, with breaks every few minutes, the eight SGC members plodded the short distance to the Stargate, closely followed by a crowd of four-foot men and women eager to watch the spectacle of the light show once again.  No Goa’uld, and no butterflies. Just weak, exhausted, hungry men so much taller than themselves, leaning on each other for support.  So what had gone wrong?  Perhaps the food had not been correct?  Or the amount of time allowed for dormancy?  Had they needed some sunlight, or higher resting posts?  Maybe it just was not the right season. Next time, they could try again, and do things differently.  Next time, they would prove their legends true.

**The End**

  


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> This story wasn’t meant to portray grim realism. Graphic details have been left out. Influenced by _La Prisonniere (Stolen Lives)_ by Malika Oufkir. _To those wrongly imprisoned throughout the world_  
> 

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> October 5, 2001 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are  
> the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author.

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